


only in my darkest moments can i see the light

by snails_in_therain



Category: An Ember in the Ashes - Sabaa Tahir
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, F/M, Post-RATG, soulmates share scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25799803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snails_in_therain/pseuds/snails_in_therain
Summary: Her father once told her, “The best thing you can do in this world is learn to love. Not just blind loving, but loving that can weather storms and survive in the bleakest of deserts. Blackcliff will beat you and break you, but remember that loving, truly loving, is your greatest weapon."soulmate au where they share scars. it's the empire though, so it's complicated.
Relationships: Helene Aquilla/Avitas Harper, Helene Aquilla/Elias Veturius (one sided)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	only in my darkest moments can i see the light

**Author's Note:**

> first fic so please be nice! title comes from "This December" by Ricky Montgomery.

The first mark appears a year after Helene is born: a long gash across her soft tummy. Smaller scratches appear along her arms and legs, and scars encircle her chubby wrists and ankles. The nurse screams, but her father only heaves a sigh. “Blackcliff,” he says. During his first year at Blackcliff, Avitas is banged up and bruised so much that, if there are any marks that aren’t his, they pass unnoticed. 

When Helene is chosen to enter Blackcliff, a fresh set of cuff scars appear over Avitas’s old stretched out scars. He’s a Fiver, alone in the wilderness, so nobody can see him mourn his soulmate even before he meets them. Even if his soulmate survives, Avitas knows they will never again be as whole and pure as before. He’s only halfway through the academy, and already he’s seen countless young soldiers succumb to the harsh environment physically and mentally. Bearing the marks of another is no guarantee either of you will live long enough to meet. 

During his final year as Fiver, Harper is shot in the shoulder by a Barbarian raiding party. Helene is working through sword forms when she hisses, dropping her weapon as a dull itching pain spreads across her right shoulder.  
The shadow of the instructor looms over her small form, and she glances up ruefully, her naked face plainly showing the embarrassment and shame.  
“Aquilla?” The instructor barks.  
“I’m sorry. My soulmate’s been hurt. It took me by surprise. It won’t happen again.”  
The instructor sneers. “Of course a girl would be bothered by her soulmate. No more of this soulmate nonsense do you hear? From the moment you were born, your soul belonged to the Empire.”  
The Farrar twins jeer at her after lessons, taunting her about her lovey-dovey soulmate. She’s just glad it’s not one of them.  
After dinner, in the barracks, Helene shows Elias the wound: a deep hole through her shoulder, though it never bleeds. It aches and pulls, and Elias helps her pull her sleep fatigues on. She grits her teeth and wishes all the best for her soulmate, whoever he may be, out there in the Empire. 

Helene falls in love with Elias little by little, until she’s staring at her best friend illuminated by the sun with warmth in her chest and is shocked at the revelation. All hers (and his) scars confirm they are not each other’s soulmates, but, even so, she wastes precious time comparing little nicks and bruises, wishing she could share his pain. Still, it makes sense that he could never love her. She has not spoken to someone who loves her in a very long time.

“Avi, darling,” Renatia Harper once told her son, showing him slash marks and arrow holes no Plebeian woman could accumulate. “Always remember that loving someone is the best thing you can do in this world. Out there is someone people tell you is your soulmate, someone who is easy and even mandatory to love. I don’t want you to settle for that complacency. To truly love someone, you have to keep learning and living with them. You have build trust and compassion. We know our soulmates by the scars we share because scars tell the story of how a person has learned and lived, and together you and your soulmate will push and pull and learn and live in a way that is perfect for you. Even though Blackcliff may break you down and rebuild you into a perfect soldier, remember that the best thing you can do in this world is love.”

The trials pass in pain and gossip; the whole Empire places bets and keeps tabs on all four Aspirants. Avitas’s wounds grow in number, though his routine never changes. The possible candidates for his soulmate narrow into four different people. For once, Avitas considers whether his soulmate is a woman--Elias Veturius, Marcus Farrar, Zak Farrar, or Helene Aquilla. It doesn’t make much of a difference to him. He will never turn away an opportunity to love.  
Helene doesn’t care who out there the universe has picked for her. The person she has chosen to love lies below her, his neck on the chopping block. She made her choice, but the universe threw it in her face. As she raises the ax, her hatred of her real “soulmate” is sealed. 

Alone in a dungeon cell, Helene awaits her fate. Her first order as Blood Shrike was “kill Elias Veturius”. She failed.  
The door to her cell slides open, and a tall imposing man with dark skin and bright green eyes enters. She is roughly thrown into a chair, and the interrogation begins. As the Commandant taught her, she conjures up one image to hold in her mind. Elias escaping, Elias free.  
“Where is Elias Veturius?”  
Helene’s head slams to the side as the interrogator smacks her across the face. They’ve been at this for hours already, progressing from simple questions to physical intimidation. Helene curses her damned heart. Her father once told her, “The best thing you can do in this world is learn to love. Not just blind loving, but loving that can weather storms and survive in the bleakest of deserts. Blackcliff will beat you and break you, but remember that loving, truly loving, is your greatest weapon.” She’s been beaten and near broken, but if love was a weapon, it would surely be a double-edged sword. Her first love was blind and one-sided, and now she will pay the price. The Blood Shrike swears never to love again.

Harper removes his armour after his first session with the new Blood Shrike, and it feels strange to torture a young woman, although she is as poised as any who wear the mask. He gapes at his torso, covered black and blue from fists, and a long slash down his arm. He runs his fingers down the line--the line that he made.  
Interrogations get harder and harder for Harper, knowing that any pain he inflicts will be reflected on his own person. Black eyes, broken ribs, fractures, lacerations. Each is mirrored perfectly on both culprit and victim. As the interrogation wears on, Harper begins to feel like the Blood Shrike isn’t the only person being destroyed. Even if the scars don’t physically hurt, everything else does. Blackcliff nearly beat him, but he fought tooth and nail just to get the chance to love. Perhaps, for that, the universe is mocking him.

When Commandant Veturia needs someone to keep an eye on the Blood Shrike, Harper volunteers. Yes, he wants to learn about his half brother, but he also needs to learn about her. Maybe he wants her to learn about him. And deep in his heart, he knows that betrayal of the Commandant is his only option. He is already learning what love is like. How badly it hurts.

The Blood Shrike has no time for Augur-y nonsense, and especially not that of the soulmate type. Since she took on the title, life has been a stressful, painful whirlwind, and the added pressure of finding her soul’s perfect match or whatnot is not something she needs right now. The scars she wears are a map of her--her wins, her losses, lessons learned and a life lived. The scars of her soulmate intertwine with hers, intertwining their souls and lives forever, but the Blood Shrike needs no one. A couple scrapes and bumps of unknown origin along the way are nothing to the veritable constellation of pain she has formed over the years. 

Sitting in the library, sorting through mismatched information as Scholars hurry to and fro, Avitas begins to feel the familiar sensation of a wound carving through his flesh.  
“Helene!” he shouts as he nears Villa Aquilla, hastily retracing her steps. His eyes are wild and hair a mess, fingers absently stemming a phantom flow of blood from his side.  
He finds her heaped in an alley, barely conscious, though she bares her teeth and dagger when he approaches. He gathers her into his arms, and feels the overwhelming need to save her as their souls seep out of the wound in her side, dying in unison.

The ambush fresh in her mind, Helene sits in the bottom of a boat and cradles Harper’s head in her lap. Fear, concern, and a new unnamable feeling overlap into mind numbing panic. Helene sings and sings until her throat feels raw, but Avitas slips into a deep sleep as her mind calms. When she gets back to her bunk, slowly unfastening her armour for bed, she is greeted by a massive new scar. She runs her fingers over the skin, marvelling at the injury she sang to health mirrored here on her body. As she drifts off to sleep, the implications of their twin injuries haunts her dreams.

Although Helene wants to confront Harper and demand answers, she pushes her emotions deep within her. Outwardly, she is never still; she prepares defenses, oversees the troops, and strategizes until she can’t keep her eyes awake. When she does finally fall into her bunk, she tosses and turns until the words of her father come back to her. She and Harper braved the wildest storms and journeyed through the driest deserts. They debated problems and pored over reports long into the night, learning and living until they worked seamlessly together. As she falls asleep, distantly she’s a little disappointed that she’s fallen in love without knowing it. Again.

As the battle rages on, the world narrows into enemies and allies. Helene can’t differentiate between the dirt and her own skin, let alone her injuries and Avitas’s. They catch glimpses of each other now and then, but the imperative is stay alive and protect the Empire. 

When Avitas sees Dex’s face and hears the message Helene has sent him, his only thought is of her. Then, he pushes it back. She is right. She is always right. There are helpless Martials—Illustrians and plebs alike—and even Scholars that need his help and his protection, and the Blood Shrike, despite the countless scars that aren’t his, has always been a capable fighter. He begins to hurry the refugees as much as possible across the rocky terrain, wincing with every cut that his skin involuntarily opens.  
The stream of refugees is beginning to slow, though too many are still picking their way through, when Avitas feels a blinding pain through his face. He reaches up, but his mask is still affixed to his face. He has never felt the pain that Helene feels (if so, the interrogation would have proven impossible), but for once he feels her anguish in searing intensity. He drops to his knees, a rock against the stream of refugees, as he presses his hands to his face in an effort to alleviate the burning.  
Dex crouches next to Harper, hand on his shoulder. “What is it?” he asks, pulling his friend aside.  
“Helene,” Avitas chokes out, not even bothering to correct his slip.  
Dex freezes at the use of his friend’s old name, and immediately pulls Harper to his feet. “She’s defending the Gap. Come on.”  
The pair race through the tunnels, passing the last of the refugees. In the back of his mind, Avitas is relieved that they have all made it through.  
As they walk, his mind begins to clear and the pain begins to fade, although he can feel the familiar itch of an open wound across the entirety of his face. There are no Karkauns in sight, but the pain makes his hurry faster.  
He finds Helene being practically dragged away from the site of her last stand by the Scholar girl (Leah? Layla?) he freed what feels like years ago. Helene’s face is completely covered in blood and her feet drag with pain. He loops an arm around her and the trio stumble up toward Dex like a bizarre six-legged creature just learning to walk. His soul feels irreparably damaged, though he is sure that many souls were bent and broken today.

When Helene finally is able to rest and begin healing, the first thing Avitas notices are her scars. They frame her face like twin moons, accentuating her hard edges but also her smooth, bare face. He still has a mask, so those are the only scars that she bears alone.  
Waking without her mask feels like a betrayal of everything she has ever lived and served for. Though it was given in love, she still feels a jagged hole in her heart where the mask used to be, and nothing will quite repair it. However, she also feels something new. Not a loss this time, but an addition--another pulsing, living soul joining with hers. Someone she can reach to for comfort, support, advice, and warnings. Someone who softens her edges but isn’t afraid to challenge her. Someone who fits so seamlessly with her, it’s impossible to tell where she ends and he begins.  
As their lips meet for the first time, their souls twine together like the scars they have shared all their lives, and it feels like, finally, coming home.


End file.
